3:03 am Feb 15
by Cleavage Queen
Summary: Early morning reflections the day after Valentine's Day


_Disclaimer: Characters are not mine but the story is._

_I wrote this a few days ago, prior to Valentine's Day, but then wanted to make sure the episode tonight (Unfaithful) didn't reveal any conflicts with what I wrote. it didn't and I think it actually works well with it...  
_

_Feedback: Please oh Please!! I do like to hear what people are saying, particularly if it is constructive. This was not beta'd so hope there are no serious errors, all errors are mine alone  
_

Title: 3:03 am 2/15

3:03 AM

Lightning splits across the sky, the rumble of thunder disturbing the silence of the early morning.

Taub and his wife were busy handing out umbrellas to their friends as they rushed out to their cars. It had been a fun Valentine's evening, dishing with the rest of House's Fellows, both current and former. Chase and Cameron were a lovely couple, and had some great insights on how to survive the rest of their time with House. They had managed to forge a life together despite everything they went through. Foreman and Hadley seemed to be getting closer than expected. They made a nice couple too. Even Kutner had brought a date, of sorts. He hadn't really been going out with anyone but had brought Cuddy's most recent assistant with him. She was a sweet girl and everyone, including herself, knew that she was not going to last long under the demands of being the Dean of Medicine's Assistant.

As their friends drove off, Taub realised that he had enjoyed hosting all of them and looked forward to having more evenings out. He wondered if everyone at PPTH had had as pleasant a Valentine's Day as he had.

3:03 AM

Lighting splits across the sky, the rumble of thunder disturbing the silence of early morning

Lisa Cuddy was lying wide awake in bed, ensconced under her warm covers, bundled against the darkness of the night. The storm had kept her on edge all day, and now, desperate as she was for sleep, all she did was toss and turn.

_Another date gone bad. What was she doing wrong? She knew she was pretty and interesting. Knew she had lots to bring to a relationship. Sure, she knew how to be a strong leader, but all she wanted was someone to come home to at night who would take the lead, instead of her always having to be the one in charge. She wanted someone to take care of HER every now and then, someone else to make the decisions. She was the BOSS all day, every day, and wanted someone else to take over every now and then. _

_She thought back to her date with Don Herrick, last Valentine's Day. He was attractive, although dull and tried too hard. As the owner of __Eastern Lube, she had hoped he'd understand when business interrupted life. __What had he said when House interrupted them at her house? "You should hear yourself_ when you're talking to him. Nothing else in the world's going on. You're focused, confident, compelling"_. Problem was, Don was right. House DID get her circuits firing. She didn't want him, she was sure he didn't want her. Sure, they teased back and forth, sexual innuendos and double entendre's were normal conversations for them. It took so much to keep up with him – so much energy. But she always felt alive and invigorated by their play._

_But would they ever push their relationship any further? Even the thought of getting involved with Greg House was dangerous. Not just because of his arrogance, relentlessness, his pills and alcohol. She could find ways to deal with all of that. But he was her employee. There was a fine, fine line here. She had worked too hard to get where she was to have everyone judge her by a relationship with someone at the hospital. _

_On the other hand, the night he kissed her… She wasn't sure which of them had been more surprised by that. It was just the kind of kiss she wanted, needed – deep, passionate, all consuming, comforting, full of need, full of desire. The feel of his body melting into hers, his warmth, his strength. Nothing else mattered at that moment. The loss of Joy, the frustration of thinking she would never become a mother, she would never have any one in her life. How could Greg House wound her so deeply and still make her feel so…aroused…needed. And why did she so want him to kiss her like that again? That fine line that she didn't dare cross was becoming thinner and thinner. _

Lightning crossed the sky again; thunder boomed immediately. The storm had moved to directly over her home. The baby let out a wail and Lisa got out of bed to soothe her, knowing she wasn't going to get any sleep anyway.

3:03 AM

Lighting splits across the sky, the rumble of thunder disturbing the silence of early morning

The clap of thunder startled him awake and instinctively James Wilson reached for Amber to pull the warmth of her next to him. It took a moment for his sleep fogged brain to remember she was gone. A wave of grief washed over him and he knew he wouldn't get back to sleep for a long time... He never could sleep during thunderstorms. There was something, well, electric, about them. As a child he always begged his parents to let him watch them from the porch. The sight of the sky dancing with light, counting the beats before the thunder rumbled to see how far or near the storm was… he used to love it. But now, all he could think of was the night he lost Amber. It had been raining then too.

_He missed her so much. She really was the one true love of his life. She didn't want him to do things because it made HER happy – she wanted him to do what made HIM happy. He had never had that in any of his marriages. He always did whatever it took to make his wives happy – up to the point when he went off to find someone else that might make him happy. He was always "the best friend." Funny, all the nicknames he seemed to have gotten over the years – The Boy Wonder Oncologist, Dr. Panty Peeler.._

_This train of thought was getting him nowhere._ To distract himself, he snapped on the bedside radio, just hoping for some background noise. _Great – __WTSR-FM __was running the Swing Hour this morning._ _Last spring he and Amber had taken classes in Swing dance; he remembered how happy she was out on the dance floor. He loved to dance – when Swing made it's comeback in the early 90's he had been out on the floor every week with his buddies – it felt like they were a revival of Swing Kids… He wished that House and some of the others at PPTH had gotten to know Amber as someone other than "Cut-throat Bitch." The stupid competition of House's for his new fellows had irked him; putting student against student instead of making them work as a team. _

_Music was not going to help. It was just bringing up more memories and thoughts_. He reached out, turned off the radio and picked up the picture of Amber that he kept near the bed. He was glad he had come back to PPTH, glad for the random reminders of Amber. It made him realise all the good things he had here. He would be there for Cuddy and her daughter, he'd find ways to keep House out of too much trouble and maybe even help him figure out how to deal with this big change in his life. Greg was never good with change and despite all their teasing and butting of heads, he knew that Greg and Lisa really did care about each other, even if he would never admit it. Some how it was calming to hold the picture of Amber and think of the good things that were part of his life. He knew the pain would pass, meanwhile, the lightning flashed again and he counted the heartbeats before the thunder crashed. It was almost as soothing as when he was a child.

3:03 AM

Lighting splits across the sky, the rumble of thunder disturbing the silence of early morning

He had already taken too much Vicodin and the scotch hadn't helped either. Extreme weather always made his leg hurt more, but this was not just leg pain. Too much change had happened lately; he felt too far out of his comfort zone. Laying in bed was not going to do anything, he wasn't going to sleep tonight. Greg House stiffly swung out of bed and, after finding his ever-present cane, made his way into the living room and sat at the piano.

Slowly, he ran his fingers over the keys, playing random notes, snippets of various songs. He wasn't in the mood for anything particular, sliding from Rachmaninoff to Billy Joel to hymns from his past. _ Come home, come home, Ye who are weary, come home…._ There was something so calming and peaceful in the words and the tune. Haunting somehow.

His mind was wandering just as much as his hands were. Not a man prone to ruminating, he was surprised where his mind was drifting. _The lost of his father, the verification that his "father" was not his biological father, Amber dying and his part in her death, Wilson leaving Princeton and their friendship falling apart. James Wilson was like the little brother he had never had. He was surprised to learn that James had another brother, one that he, House, had never met. He thought he knew everything about his friend. No wonder he had been so worried about losing House._

The most troubling thought though, was that his mind kept drifting to Lisa Cuddy. Her daughter too. _Foster daughter for now, but he knew Cuddy wanted to eventually adopt her. Just when he was thinking that reaching out to her wasn't as insane and out of his reach as he once thought, she throws in a child. He knew that he wanted to be with her, but the idea of being a father? He had never even thought of that._

Ever since that night… He didn't know why he had even gone to her house. He knew she needed comfort, but he had never been one to give comfort to anyone. He was just…suddenly there. But the moment he saw her, he knew he needed to comfort her. Kissing her was just an excuse to hold her close. He didn't realise how much he had wanted her. How good it felt to hold her, touch her.

His fingers seemed to be picking out a tune all by themselves. He should be writing this out – it was beautiful and he wanted to be able to play it again. He found a sheet of unused score paper and a pencil on the table near the piano and started to scribble. The scotch and Vicodin was pulling him into a foggy haze and he knew he'd fall asleep at the piano, again. He knew he should at least move to the couch but leaned his arms against the piano and dropped his head onto them, drifting into a drugged sleep.

Lighting splits across the sky, the rumble of thunder disturbing the silence of early morning

A flash of lightning illuminates the sheet music dangling in House's hand as he fell asleep, his head leaning against the piano – _Valentine for Lisa._

_For those interested in the hymn House sings, see this youtube…: /watch?v=PSDqHawCCEY_


End file.
